


She's A Dangerous Kind

by hostagesfic



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Domesticity, F/M, Genderswap, Riding, girl!Liam - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-05 06:27:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/719915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hostagesfic/pseuds/hostagesfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s just after ten when Liam stirs beside him, and Harry’s a little surprised it’s taken this long. She’s usually up far before he is, even on weekends, even on <i>Sundays</i>, which Harry’s been trying to convince her for the last year are <i>made</i> for sleeping in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She's A Dangerous Kind

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently all we can write anymore is Harry having morning sex with girl versions of his bandmates? For [this prompt](http://badjujuboo.livejournal.com/438705.html?thread=2413233#t2413233) at the lirry ficathon. Liam is a cisgirl. Title from Girl You Shoulda Been A Drummer by William Beckett.

It’s just after ten when Liam stirs beside him, and Harry’s a little surprised it’s taken this long. She’s usually up far before he is, even on weekends, even on  _Sundays_ , which Harry’s been trying to convince her for the last year are  _made_  for sleeping in. He’d like to think it’s finally sinking in, but he knows it’s more likely the fact that Liam’s worked herself down to the tiniest bits in the past two weeks, between picking up shifts at the restaurant and studying for finals on top of her normal hassled schedule. It’s the reason he hasn’t even left the bed to fix her breakfast, yet, just watching her ribs move and her fingers flex against the sheets. 

Now, though. “Morning, sunshine,” he whispers, shifting towards her to kiss her hair. She grumbles and turns, wide chocolate eyes blinking awake as she takes in the sight of his probably ridiculous bedhead. “Hi,” she grins, yawning and stretching under the covers, “hi, hi. Hi.”

“Hi,” Harry smiles back, and sits up, blankets pooling around his waist. Liam’s eyes follow his movement and her grin turns dimpled and smirking when she notices the shape his semi fills out in the sheets.

Harry rolls his eyes. 

“Need a hand?” Liam asks, shifting further, onto her side facing him, kissing his knee and propping her chin on it. 

Shaking his head, Harry contorts himself to kiss her cheek, rolls her gently onto her back again so he can hover over her for a real kiss. Liam makes a pleased little sound and sucks on his lower lip, traces his upper with her tongue. They’ve both gotten over the early relationship stages of squeamishness, and after a minute of kissing all they can taste is each other, anyway. It’s a nice snog, slow and lazy with breaks for eskimo kisses and for Harry to tuck Liam’s hair behind her ear, for Liam to press her hands to his ribs and settle him down, close against her chest.

They’re both naked, only the sheets between quickly warming skin, and it’s Liam who eventually breaks their kisses, leaning back to breathe and ask, “Sure you don’t want a hand with that?”

“Nah,” Harry says, dipping his head to kiss her neck, “but I thought I might give you one, if y’like.”

Liam wriggles beneath him, tugs at his hair. “What’re you waiting for, then?”

They kiss until they’re both smiling too hard to, and then Harry slides down her body, untangles her legs from the sheets and props her feet flat on the mattress, settles between her knees. Harry loves her thighs but she’s squirming with impatience, one hand still in his hair, the other cupping her breast, and Harry’s still smiling when he lowers his mouth to her.

She’s wet; it only takes a moment, Harry’s tongue dragging the slick up from her cunt to her clit, to get her slippery with it, and then Harry’s holding her open with his thumbs so he can close his lips around her, a hot, sucking kiss.

Liam rolls her hips against his mouth and exhales, and Harry savors her shudder as he licks up between her folds for the first time, his tongue barely dipping into her cunt before pressing firmly just beneath her clit. “Fuck,” Liam breathes, dirty like she always is when Harry gets her here. “Yeah, Haz. More.”

Harry shakes his head, making her fingers tighten in his curls, and taps the tip of his tongue the frustrating side of too gentle at her clit. 

Liam groans and pushes her hips up again, insistent, and Harry slides his mouth up, a filthy wet sound of skin on skin, sucks her clit against his tongue. It’s not what she wants, but she takes it with a gasp, free hand slamming down against the mattress. One of her feet is nudging at Harry’s side, and he wills her to use it like she wants, to hold him down.

She does, of course, lifts her leg over his shoulder and digs her heel into his back. It’s another point of leverage, grinding herself up against his face. Closing his eyes, Harry takes a quick breath and ducks down, presses his tongue into her and lets her ride against it.

She comes like that, back arching off the bed and then flopping back into it, both hands cradling Harry’s head and urging him back. “Lemme-” she says, and Harry lifts himself up, lets her see. 

“Fuck,” she says, looking winded. Her fingers trace his jawline carefully, and Harry grins. This is the part where she still gets embarrassed, sometimes, at the shine of his face and the way he has to lick his lips clean, the way his chin is almost dripping in her wet slickness. “Hey,” he says, softly, squeezing her thighs. “Hey, Li.”

Liam shakes her head, bright flush spread down her neck and chest, and she tugs at his hair. “C’mon,” she says, “Haz.”

“Think I’ll stay where I am,” he says. “Like the view.”

Liam’s head drops back onto the pillow, and she laughs. “Jesus.”

“Mmm,” Harry agrees, leaning back in to clean her up. She stays still, fingers tangled in his hair but not pulling, and lets him, even when she shivers against the rasp of his tongue. Harry thumbs down between her folds and just looks for a moment, kisses her gently. 

“You’re awful,” Liam mumbles. 

Harry rests his head against her thigh and closes his eyes. Everything smells like sex and Liam, and he’s so hard that he’d thought for a moment he could get off as she did, just rutting off in the sheets. Now, though, he’s savoring the throb, the just-turning-to-ache, as he waits for Liam to decide what to do with him.

It only takes a few minutes of lazily petting his hair before Liam is shifting, rolling over and sitting up beside Harry. “C’mon,” she says, poking his shoulder. Harry resists rolling his eyes, because Liam is one of those people who is  _never_ sleepy after sex, and he hasn’t even had his turn yet and he’s knackered. 

“What do you  _want_  with me?” he moans, pulling himself up the bed and flopping onto his back, throwing an arm over his face exaggeratedly. Liam giggles and pokes his thigh, this time. 

“Gonna ride you,” she says, decidedly, and Harry has to move his arm because  _that’s_  something he can’t miss. 

She grins up at him from where she’s crawling across his thighs, straddling one and then both, hands on his stomach. “Yeah? Haven’t in awhile. Could do to get off again, figured this is a bit more fun for you than if I get out my vibe.”

“Ungh,” Harry nods, and Liam pats his chest. “Good boy. Stay.”

Harry bites down on his lower lip to keep quiet as she shuffles forward, nudging his prick up with her fingers so she can rub along it. She feels so good like this, velvety heat promising to surround him and not  _quite_  following through, and it’s obvious she loves it too. Harry thinks she looks especially beautiful like this, back arched and thighs stretched as she rocks their bodies together, rolls her hips and presses her cunt down against the shaft of his prick, nudging her clit into the crown. 

“Li,” he breathes, when she’s close, chest heaving. He reaches up to palm her breasts, thumbs rubbing over her nipples, and it’s like flipping a switch; she crumples, pulse pounding against his prick as she comes a second time. 

She recovers faster, this time, propping herself up, weight on him heavy through her hands on his chest. “Okay,” she breathes, flicking her hair back. “Okay, let’s- your turn, yeah?”

“Please,” Harry gasps, letting his hands fall to her hips and pulling her forward for a breathless kiss.

Liam laughs, brighter than the sun creeping through their curtains and onto the bed, and guides Harry’s prick against her, shifting back. She grins at him as the head of his cock catches, keeps watching him as she slowly sinks down, and Harry has to close his eyes. Liam presses herself down against his chest, rocks her hips to settle him inside her, and Harry has to keep his hands moving, mindless stroking up and down her sides, across her back, up to her shoulders, to avoid clinging so hard he’ll hurt her. 

When Liam moves, it’s a slow, tired grind of her hipbones against Harry’s, arching her back and pushing her arse out before pressing back down. She’s quiet, huffing muted little breaths into Harry’s shoulder, one hand settled on the bed for leverage and the other playing at the ends of his curls, almost as if she’s deciding if she wants to come again- probably will- from this.

“Fuck,” Harry mumbles, turning his head to kiss her wrist, suck at the pulse there. Everything about her is heat and sound, and it’s easy to get lost, like this. “Li.”

“Yeah,” Liam nods, leaning up and pressing their foreheads together, breathing heavily. Her hair falls around their faces and Harry feels like he’s made of melted gold, like he’s swimming in warmth and sunlight and  _Liam_ , and she’s laughing again, so sweet he can taste it. “Hi,” she mumbles, “Haz, Harry- you’re-” 

“Mm,” Harry nods, tipping his head back to kiss her, and when she pulls her hips up he has a hand at the ready, hovering above her lower back, to push her back down onto his dick. 

Liam’s still laughing, but it’s all breathless, turned-on little gasps, the way she can’t quite stop just another tell for Harry. He slides his other hand between them, index and middle fingertips rolling over her clit easily. She’s still so, so wet, maybe more than before, and now that Harry’s thinking about it he can  _hear_ it, the ludicrously dirty, hot sounds of them working together. He grins, leaning up to kiss her again, rocking his hips up into her.

“C’mon,” she sighs, and clenches around him, timed well enough with a swipe of his fingertips to pass off as a reflex response, but Harry  _knows_  the wickedness in her smile, teeth grazing his collarbone as she ducks her head to hide it. “Harry,” she insists, lifts her hips and lets him push her down.  _Teamwork,_  he thinks, and grins as he feels that telltale flutter, low in his belly.

“Yeah,” Liam gasps, like she can feel it too, and they’re so  _close_  right now that maybe she can. She spreads her hands on his cheeks and licks into his mouth, wet and heated, and when she pulls back she’s still smiling, but her face has gone serious. “Got you all wet,” she breathes, barely words, but Harry can  _feel_  them against his mouth. “S’your turn.”

Harry grunts and kisses her hard, fits the hand idling at the bottom of her spine over her hipbone. Like this, he can pull her up by the softness of her hip and back down with the heel of his hand, bucking up in quick jolts to meet her halfway. “Liam,” he gasps, the word smeared against her lips, and she sucks at his tongue, churns her hips to rub her clit into his fingers.

In retrospect, Harry couldn’t say who  _actually_  came first, but they ride it out together, moaning and shuddering and grinding and laughing, melting into each other. All he can see is Liam, the jut of her collarbones and the swollen red of her mouth, the birthmark on her neck and the ruddy flushed pink of the skin around it, her eyes, the faint smattering of freckles across her cheeks, left over from sunnier days. 

He kisses her until he can’t breathe and then kisses her again, and Liam’s giggling helplessly against his chest. “Okay, okay,” she says, finally, pulling herself up his body and falling onto the mattress beside him. Harry turns into her pulls her close, and it’s sweaty and they’re both giddy with exhaustion, but Harry will never not want to snuggle after sex, and Liam will never turn down cuddles from Harry.

“So,” Liam says, when they’ve gone sticky and not quite as giggly. “I wanna go to the gym. Come with?”

“Ugh,” Harry moans, and drops his head onto her shoulder. “You’re a monster. Shower first?”

Liam nods, and pecks a light kiss to his mouth. “Shower first.”


End file.
